


You searched for: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov

by Arumattie



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-07 14:24:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8804347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arumattie/pseuds/Arumattie
Summary: Having discovered the ice skating fandom, Victor takes a keen interest in the fictional love lives of himself and his fellow skaters.That said, he's quick to pick a favorite ship.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [prompt #57](http://yoikinkmeme.tumblr.com/post/153583698615/viktor-discovers-rp-fanfiction) on the YOI kink meme over on tumblr, which essentially boils down to Victor discovering RPF. :Db
> 
> Contains spoilers up through the tenth episode. Author names were made up off the top of my head; apologies if I managed to steal someone's handle, haha. Enjoy!

It all started one day as Victor browsed on his phone in the grey light of dawn. Yuuri was spending the morning training with Minako, which meant that he had several hours to kill before he had to meet up with his student at the ice rink. While he had tried on several occasions to _join_ Yuuri at practice, the fact that his presence had his protégé tripping over his own feet caused Minako to prohibit him from coming to watch.

Thus, days like this usually meant curling up with Makkachin and interacting with his fans through social media—along with enjoying a bowl of katsudon and a dip in the onsen, of course.

The night before, Victor had uploaded an older photo of himself and Christophe enjoying popsicles in the snow just prior to the Grand Prix Final banquet. They were laughing, hands outstretched toward the night sky; Sochi was a blur of bright lights behind them. He had simply tagged the post with the word “nostalgia” and left it at that. 

To his fans, this seemed like a sign that he missed skating, missed being the _star_ instead of being the inspiration. For him—for _Victor_ –it was more of a reminder of the journey that he’d started that evening in Sochi—of how one single night of fun could change the entire course of his life and career.

What with being _the_ most famous person in ice skating at the moment, Victor had a _huge_ fanbase on Instagram. The photograph he posted last night had surged in popularity, but Victor was quick to notice that the hit count was even higher than usual—not that he _minded_. Curious as to what _caused_ the difference, though, he began to scroll through the notes before he happened upon what seemed like an innocuous comment:

OMG i need some fic of this scene stat!!!!

The statement didn’t make any immediate sense to him, but apparently, many of his fans took offense. The individual who had made the original comment had stepped into taboo territory, the masses claimed, but no one ever seemed to say exactly _why_. They just appeared to be shocked that someone would actually say such a thing on _his_ social media page.

No matter! Google could and would fill in the blanks for him. A quick search unearthed the meaning behind the word “fic,” which led him down the trail to another phrase—one that would fit his situation even better.

Thus was Victor Nikiforov introduced to the world of real person fiction.

***

> Hello, icebladez58! Your story was such a delight to read! This is my first time encountering this kind of writing. 
> 
> There is just one thing I need to tell you: I can guarantee you that I have more stamina than Chris. I would prefer to not go into intimate detail as to how I know this (It is duller than you think haha!), but just remember how he can barely contain himself on the rink. If we were lovers, I’d be the one outlasting him. ;)
> 
> Anyway, I really enjoyed your description of my hair!! Like a halo around my head?? I had not realized that people were still so interested in it being long. Should I grow it out again???
> 
> -V

***

“Victor, you’ve been spending a lot of time staring at your phone recently,” Yuuri said one day as they watched the Zamboni circle the ice rink. It had been about a week since Victor had been introduced to the world of RPF, and the observation was… well, accurate. That wasn’t to say that he was _ignoring_ his dearest Yuuri though.

After all, it wasn’t _his_ fault that his student still prohibited Victor from sleeping in his room or accompanying him into the shower. Reading fanfiction was something that happened when Yuuri wasn’t available to him, and if Yuuri happened to catch his coach finishing a story as he came back into the room, well, where was the harm in that?

Mere hours after discovering the world of real person fiction, Victor had already uncovered a website that was a practical treasure trove of these “fanfics.” Two days later, he had his own account there—all the better to keep track of what he was reading, of course. Victor was a frequent user of the kudos system, and on more than one occasion, he’d found himself commenting (ah, correcting?) writers on their stories. Thus far, though, no one seemed to believe that it was actually _him_ replying. Apparently, celebrities reading stories about themselves was completely and utterly unheard of; he’d been called a weird roleplayer or a troll in most cases.

Ah, but back to his cute student noticing his current preoccupation—

While there was no hint of disapproval in Yuuri’s tone of voice, Victor felt that he may as well come clean about his new obsession. After all, he felt that this could be something the two of them could… enjoy together, in a manner of speaking.

“Did you know that our fans write about us, Yuuri?” Victor asked, his smile bright and playful.

“Eh?” Yuuri could be so very eloquent at times.

“They write about all of us. You. Me. Phichit. Chris. JJ.” Ah, the confused look on Yuuri’s face was _endearing_ , and Victor couldn’t help how his smile turned affectionate. “Sometimes we are just friends, but sometimes…” Reaching for his protégé, he tilted his chin upwards, slid his thumb over the swell of Yuuri’s lower lip. “They think that there is _much_ more to our relationships.”

At that, Yuuri flushed, his cheeks turning a delightful shade of red. Was it so wrong of him to want to tease him just a little? Pressing closer until their foreheads bumped, Victor lowered the pitch of his voice; Yuuri shivered and swallowed hard. “Did you know that there are people out there who want me to sleep with Chris? I’ve been reading stories about us together.

“They say that it’s our friendly rivalry that makes us an appealing couple.” Yuuri’s pupils dilated, and Victor could hear his breathing quickening. “What do you think of that? Do you think we would be a good pair?”

Yuuri made a garbled noise before shoving him away. “I-I don’t know,” he finally ground out, eyes frantically looking everywhere but at the man standing right beside him. Victor chuckled and winked at his student. “Or would you rather they write about _us_?”

“N-no! O-of course not!” Yuuri forced out a laugh and glanced, as if out of desperation, at the Zamboni; it was finally making its way off of the ice. “Hah… haha… Who would want that!?”

True enough, there weren’t really _any_ Victor/Yuuri stories written at the moment, but then again, they’d had minimal contact with each other up until a few weeks ago when Victor had flown to Japan seemingly out of the blue. Most of the world still thought that there was nothing between them, eclectic career decisions aside. The photos from the banquet had (perhaps gratefully) never surfaced on the internet, so the fact that Victor was already _quite smitten_ was sealed away from the prying eyes of the world.

As he watched Yuuri escape to the ice and out of his grasp, Victor couldn’t help but wonder how that would change the longer he was here. The world _knew_ he had left Russia and that he had already refused one offer to return to his homeland. How long would it take them to realize _why_ he’d forsaken everything that he had?

Most of his fans were still incredibly disappointed by his decision to coach and were begging for his return to the ice. (In fact, he’d read a handful of stories in which various rivals convinced him to come back with a few choice acts in the bedroom—not to mention plenty of tears from both parties.) The thing was, though, that the ice had never filled him the same joy that he had now watching someone _else_ skate. Being here with Yuuri let him feel alive, let him remember that there was more to life than earning that next gold medal. 

No, Victor had a feeling that these writers would be writing about something different in the months to come. The thought curled his lips into a small smile.

***

> Hello, Ph-Ph-Phiiiiiiichiiiiiiiiiit!
> 
> While I cannot comment on if or where Phichit is ticklish, I can 100% confirm that Yuuri’s sides definitely are. :D Just watch out for when he flails his arms. He almost put me out of commission several times because of that!
> 
> That said, please be careful of how you portray Yuuri prior to competitions. While he has improved somewhat, it is still very difficult for him to settle down before he skates. I can only imagine what his blood pressure is like haha!! (I am not sure tickling would help ease his worry as you suggested. Maybe I should try it? Hugs work like a charm though!!) I wish you would write about me comforting him before skating! I am his coach after all.
> 
> Make sure to give me some cool lines next time!
> 
> -V

***

Most of the stories about Yuuri centered on his relationship with Phichit. It was understandable, given their history together, but leading up to the Cup of China, Victor had definitely noticed a slow but steady climb in the number of fanfic involving himself and Yuuri—albeit, mostly in Japanese. On the other hand, Russian writers, if they wrote about them at all, tended to paint Yuuri as someone who had stolen their precious Victor from their grasp.

“We have a name, you know. Victuuri.”

“…do you mean victory?”

“No, no~ Victuuri. It’s our pairing name.”

“Pairing… ?” Yuuri gave him a flat look as Victor continued to beam. Fishing out his phone, he pulled up the fanfiction website and then showed him the 153 entries that fell under the Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov tag. “See! Victuuri. Don’t you think it’s cute?”

“Are you still reading those stories?” Yuuri asked with a hint of disbelief, shoving his hands into his pockets. Despite Victor’s best efforts, his student was still disinterested in his fanon life. “Doesn’t it feel weird to you? After all, they’re writing stories about your life.”

“Hm…” Victor tapped his index finger against his chin before tilting his head and winking. “Nope!

“They have been giving me ideas on how to increase your eros though.”

“Ehhhhhh?” Visibly tensing at that, his protégé gave him a nervous look. “H-how are they doing that?”

“Well, a lot of them are suggesting that I _show you_ what eros truly feels like,” Victor replied matter-of-factly. His eyes narrowed then in mischief. “I think people are amused that you think about katsudon to perform.”

“D-does it matter what I think about? So long as it works, right?”

“But Yuuri, don’t you _want_ me to seduce you in the onsen?” He touched his fingertips to his lips, eyelids dropping to half-mast. Yuuri made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a whimper before shaking his head vigorously. His (completely endearing) blush was now here full force, painting him crimson from the roots of his hair to well past the dip of his collar. “I can be your coach _and_ your lover if you’d like.”

“I thought I already told you that—”

“You want me to stay the way I am. I know, Yuuri.” His smile went from teasing to affectionate then, and Victor reached over, pulling the other into a one-armed hug. Truth be told, he already knew Yuuri had _plenty_ of eros in him, but his protégé seemed to have difficulty unlocking it without any alcohol in his system. While thoughts of katsudon were working for the time being, Victor hoped that his inspiration would turn to something _else_ soon.

His coach perhaps… ?

Sighing inwardly, Victor halted that line of thought. It still felt a touch odd to be the one doing the _chasing_ , considering how long he’d been the one who was _chased_ for most of his professional career, and it certainly didn’t help that the young man still seemed convinced that this was just all one big joke to him. Clearly, Victor would have to be more… _straightforward_ with his approach, to let Yuuri know that he wasn’t just here to tease and play.

In the meantime—

“I’m including a reading regimen as part of your training.”

“Victor…”

***

> Hello ViktuuryMarch!
> 
> Haha, you have made Yuuri very bold here! I like the way you think. ;) Sadly for me (for us all?), he has not even kissed me yet. I am starting to think that I will have to be the one who kisses him first. Yuuri tends to become very flustered when I show him any physical attention, but I hope that he demonstrates the same enthusiasm you have depicted him having here when I do. Ah, but when would be a good time?
> 
> Maybe I will take your onsen idea.
> 
> -V

***

The media was having a field day with the kiss in China.

Writers from _all_ nations were quickly drowning the ice skating fandom in Victuuri fanfiction; the tag would go on to double in size overnight, and it showed no signs of slowing. After all, the ship was _official_ now; their fans were vindicated.

That said, Victor was far too preoccupied to be thinking about _fanfiction_ at the moment.

The award ceremony had passed in a blur of music and color, of bright lights and the roar of the crowd. He vaguely remembered watching Yuuri accept his medal and then pulling him into a fierce hug after that, but from there on out, it was merely a rush to get Yuuri back to the hotel, to get Yuuri _alone_ because he’d kissed him and one kiss was never going to be enough now that he’d had a taste.

Always physically affectionate with Yuuri, Victor was even more so now as he walked his student out of the arena to the taxi, fingers entwined. Their shoulders kept bumping, what with their close proximity, and it was _so damn hard_ to stop himself from simply leaning over and just pecking Yuuri on the cheek.

His heart felt full to bursting with affection—a sentiment that he demonstrated to Yuuri in exquisite detail later that night.

It would not be until they were on the flight back to Japan the next day that Victor would finally see what had happened to his favorite RPF tag. Truthfully, the thought that their public kiss would ignite such passion in the fans hadn’t even crossed his mind, focused as he was on Yuuri, but now that it was there for him to see… Well, he couldn’t help but be a little amused by it all.

“Yuu~ri~,” he said, leaning heavily into his protégé’s space and bringing his phone up for him to see. “Look, look! We’re now the most popular pairing in the fandom!”

“…Victor, really?” Yuuri mumbled, cheeks growing pink. He didn’t try to shy away though, and with some encouragement from his coach, Yuuri took the phone and started to scroll through the list of fic. While he might have been browsing a bit faster than Victor did when he was looking for new reading material, Yuuri _did_ actually look like he was paying attention to the works presented for once. “All of these were uploaded recently.”

“That’s what happens when you kiss on TV.”

“Can you not say that so casually?”

There was no heat in Yuuri’s protest; the small, shy smile on his face even seemed to suggest a bit of _pride_ regarding kissing his coach for all to see. Either way, Victor was beyond happy that Yuuri finally seemed to be accepting his physical attention now. The panicky, embarrassed reactions that he had gotten so used to had been decidedly missing since the free skate, and he relished it, took advantage of it now by resting his head against Yuuri’s shoulder.

His student returned the favor, leaning toward him as he continued to scroll; Yuuri would pause occasionally, as if considering something before perusing the list again. In their shared space, Victor would eventually allow his eyes to slide shut, dozing off, as Yuuri browsed, but at the soft sound of the other’s voice, Victor cracked open one eye.

“Hm?”

“Can I mark some of these for read later?”

Victor couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his lips. “Of course, Yuuri.”

***

> Hi Internal-screaming!
> 
> Ah~ How could you have me saying such a thing to my precious Yuuri!? :’( I would be heartbroken if I ever had to leave him, and I have no doubt that Makkachin would be very sad, too. While I do miss Russia, I would never give up Yuuri just to go back there. I would invite him to come with me instead!
> 
> But this is what they call flangst, correct??? Since your story is still a WIP, does that mean that you will give us a happy ending? :) I hope that you will!
> 
> -V

***

It honestly hadn’t been that long since they had parted ways when he really thought about it, but it felt like an _eternity_.

Scrubbing at his eyes, Victor stared blearily at the clock on the wall, noting the hour for the millionth time. Yuuri had long ago sent him a text message saying that he was on his way home, but the radio silence now was killing him. It had been _ages_ since they’d been separated like this, and the stressors that had forced them apart did nothing to help ease his mind.

Makkachin snuffled at him, wet nose bumping against his hand, and Victor stroked his head idly, his thoughts still a thousand miles away. The dog persisted, though, troubled by his master’s unusually downtrodden countenance, and placed his front paws in Victor’s lap. “Sorry, Makkachin,” he finally murmured, glancing down at his faithful pet; Victor gave the dog a half-hearted attempt at a smile. “You should still be at home resting, but you’re stuck here with me.”

While Victor had certainly been _delighted_ that his pet was hale and hearty, the issue with that was that his attention was now solely focused on _Yuuri_ —how it felt to kiss him, how warm he was beneath his fingertips, how he’d smile at the silliest things he’d say.

How _he wasn’t here_. 

Watching his student skate in Russia had been agony, and seeing how his absence had affected Yuuri only made him feel all the more guilty about leaving him alone there. Sure, Yakov had stood by his side during the competition, but… It should have been him. Victor _knew_ that Yuuri could have skated a far stronger program, could have stood on that podium _easily_.

Victor groaned quietly and held his face in his hands.

He would have to make it all up to Yuuri somehow. Makkachin bumped his nose against his hands and whined softly, so Victor pulled him into his lap, embracing him as his thoughts wildly spiraled off again.

He thought of flowers, home-cooked meals, of hours spent in bed; the words “forgive me” whirled around in his head in Russian, Japanese, and English. Victor buried his face in Makkachin’s fur and sighed.

This wouldn’t do in the slightest.

In a desperate attempt to distract himself, Victor pulled his phone out of his pocket. He started with Instagram but quickly transitioned to the news and then a flight tracker. When refreshing the page following Yuuri’s flight did nothing to actually hurry his return, Victor retreated to the world of fanfiction. He’d found a kind of sanctuary in these stories, and he _hoped_ to escape there again—not that it had worked out all that well for him on his way back to Japan alone.

Reading Victuuri would hit too close to home, so he scrolled through other offerings: an AU where Guang Hong and Leo were spies, a saucy fic about Emil and Michele, a domestic story about Sara and Mila. The list seemed never ending, and yet, nothing caught his interest. Victor would start reading something, only to stop halfway through the first paragraph and start the process all over again. He had even gone back to try and read some of his favorites that he’d bookmarked, but to no avail; his focus was completely and utterly shot.

Resigned, Victor stowed his phone and turned his attention back to Makkachin, who looked up at him with adoring eyes. “I guess we’ll just have to wait for Yuuri like this,” he murmured, ruffling the fur atop his dog’s head. “We’ll see him soon again, won’t we?”

Honestly, it would have made more sense to follow the Katsukis’ advice to stay at home and wait, but there were too many reminders of Yuuri there—too many reasons for him to miss the young man. So here he was, stuck at the airport far too early with nothing to ease the ache in his chest.

His dog was a warm presence by his side as the hours slowly ticked on by, and then, quite suddenly, Makkachin was gone in a flurry of furry limbs. Victor’s gaze tracked his movements and there— _there_.

He was home. _Yuuri was home._

***

> Hi trashtrashbaby!
> 
> Haha, surprise! I can proudly say that our rings are gold, not white gold. ;)
> 
> -V

***

The Victuuri tag was alive and well on this cold morning, as Victor discovered on his way back from the beach.

The night before, Phichit and Chris had provided their fans a plethora of new material to work with in the form of two photographs featuring coach and student with matching gold rings, and the entire ice skating fandom was in an uproar over how Victor Nikiforov and Katsuki Yuuri were now _engaged_. Given that no one seemed to know _how_ the actual proposal went down, though, it was the most popular fic topic of choice at the moment, with the actual wedding following in popularity.

As he scrolled through the new influx of fanfiction, Victor remembered how Yuuri had bookmarked some stories on their flight back from China. His student had never gotten around to _reading_ any of the fic that he’d marked for later, but now Victor turned his attention to the stories that Yuuri had picked out, curious to know what had struck his interest. Were Yuuri’s tastes like his own? Had he meant for them to read them together one day?

Idly, Victor scrolled down the short list of fanfiction that Yuuri had chosen as he meandered back toward the hotel, and as he read the synopsis of each, he found his heart aching with barely contained love and adoration. There were no tales of wild romps in the bedroom here, no stories about seduction or betrayal, no fic about them living completely different lives; each and every one was about them—of their growth _together_. In Yuuri’s list, there was a gentleness to his choices: quiet mornings where they woke in each other’s arms, a slow dance across the ice, whispered words of adoration, and him on bended knee.

Assuming that these were things that Yuuri had wanted to share with him, Victor couldn’t help but be a bit amused by the fact that they’d already accomplished all of the topics written about save for one. And even then? He had no doubt that they would be able to check that one off the list soon enough; Victor already had the engagement ring after all.

The hotel room was delightfully warm upon his return, and Yuuri was still fast asleep, not a hint of worry upon his slumbering features. It was quite rare for the skater to sleep so well just prior to a competition, but Victor liked to think that the small gold band around his finger had something to do with it—a tangible reminder that he was always here for Yuuri, that he need not worry about ever losing him.

They had a while yet before they would have to set out for the ice rink, so Victor eased himself onto Yuuri’s bed, sliding a little awkwardly beneath the covers with his fiancé. Beside him, Yuuri made a small noise before rolling over and slinging an arm over Victor’s stomach. The movement made him chuckle quietly as he returned the embrace.

After this competition, win or no win, Victor had every intention of wedding the man in his arms and continuing the story that they were writing together. He wasn’t sure if it’d be a grand affair or a small, private one as of yet, but there was one thing he wanted to bring up to Yuuri:

In a story he had read, the writer had Chris popping out of their wedding cake.

…It couldn’t hurt to ask, right?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, sorry for the delay. Writing this took a lot longer than I had anticipated. I uh. I hope it's worth the wait, haha. I feel mildly terrified of sharing this chapter because of how well the first did, but oh well. Enjoy! o/
> 
> Contains spoilers through the end of the season.

For the record, Yuuri _was_ open to the idea of having Chris jump out of their wedding cake, provided the man was wearing undergarments at the very least.

The wedding, however, suddenly seemed a much less attainable goal, what with Yuuri going on about “ending this” and letting Victor return to the ice while he himself was going to retire. It didn’t make sense—it didn’t make any sense at all. The ice wouldn’t feel like home anymore without Yuuri there.

For that matter, _nowhere_ would feel like home without him.

The look of total and complete incomprehension on his fiancé’s face only further salted the wound. Victor now understood that, at the start of this journey, they had entered at different places, but after all that had happened, he was _so sure_ that they were on the same page—of the same heart and of the same mind. To find that even now, with rings around their fingers, that they still did not see eye to eye broke his heart.

The story wasn’t supposed to end this way. It _couldn’t_.

People had written about them splitting up—some of them out of pure spite toward Yuuri, some because they “shipped” Victor with another, and some because they enjoyed the torment—but he had always laughed them off, so sure was he about his place by Yuuri’s side. Now, though, his student seemed to be drifting away from him once more, trying to create distance between them when Victor thought that they were _so close_ to being united forevermore.

What in the world had he been thinking when he’d made that decision? He didn’t understand— _couldn’t_ understand. In his confusion and hurt, Victor lashed out at Yuuri, who replied in turn, equally confused. They traded angry words until they finally came to the conclusion that each man would make their own decision regarding their figure skating futures _on their own_ following the free skate.

Though he had little relationship experience to draw upon, Victor was _quite sure_ that they’d made a misstep there.

The room fell uncomfortably silent following their conversation, which was a far cry from the norm; both Yuuri and Victor had taken up the habit of chatting in the dark for a while before turning in for the night. Tonight, though, following the click of the light switch, there was merely the soft rustle of sheets and the slight creak of the mattress, and Victor held his breath, wondering if he should say something— _anything_ —to try and bridge the gap before it got too wide. Historically speaking, neither of them were the best at working their way through emotions, but maybe… Maybe this time he could _try_. 

He rolled over, and the words died on his lips: Yuuri had his back turned to him, the blankets pulled up and over his head.

***

>   
>  **icebladez58**
> 
> So I gotta ask. Has anyone else gotten messages from v-nikiforov on AO3? This person always signs their name as V with their comments. I got a message from them several months back, but I didn’t think anything of it at the time. I mean, they’re probably just a really bored troll, going around pretending to be Victor anyway. Like, I still think they’re a troll now but… IDK.
> 
> I’ve been talking to a lot of other writers in the fandom, and it seems this person gets around a LOT. And they have never, ever broken character? Anyone got any clue WTF is up with this person? Do they just really like Victor or smt? There’s no way they’re the real deal, right?
> 
> Source: icebladez58 #ice skating #AO3 #Victor Nikiforov #Victroll
> 
> **3,429 notes**  
> 

***

Victor woke to the sound of his alarm going off, a dull, throbbing headache behind his eyes.

It took him a moment to remember _why_ his head was hurting and why he’d slept so poorly, and then the previous night’s argument came flooding back to him like a torrent. He turned a little to glance at Yuuri, but it looked as if his student hadn’t moved an inch overnight. With a sigh, Victor rolled out of bed. “Yuuri, let’s go and practice,” he said, hoping to inject _some_ sense of happiness into his voice; he failed miserably though, coming across as exhausted and drained as he felt. “Yuuri?”

“’m not feeling well. Not gonna go,” came the muffled reply. 

On any other day, Victor would have come over, running his fingers through Yuuri’s hair and muttering words of comfort, but today, Yuuri’s words did nothing but unsettle him all the more, causing him to bristle internally. So much for his olive branch, hm? Brow creasing and lips curling into a frown, he huffed and shook his head. “I’m going out today then. I’ll be back in the evening.”

The lump in the bed didn’t move nor did it speak.

The lack of response only furthered his irritation, and by the time he slipped out of the room, Victor’s mood was ruined. He briefly considered contacting Chris to spend time together but quickly wrote off the idea; after all, _Chris_ likely _would_ be practicing today.

Was it too early to drink at seven in the morning? It was… probably too early.

Just yesterday, Barcelona seemed to be so much more… _vibrant_. This morning, though the weather was very much the same, felt considerably less bright and welcoming; everything seemed dull and gray. Today as he walked by the ocean, there were no gulls to accompany him, and the sound of the waves against the sand seemed far lonelier for it.

He stopped briefly at the same spot he had yesterday and again held up his hand against the rising sun. The gold glinted as beautifully as it had then, but the warmth wasn’t there; Victor was quick to shove his hand back into his pocket as he continued down the sidewalk, directionless.

There was a full day ahead of him, and Victor had no idea how to fill the hours.

He’d already made a grand tour of Barcelona two days ago with Yuuri, and seeing as he’d originally set aside the entire day for practice, Victor hadn’t made any plans to do anything else. To make matters worse, all the people he would have spent time with, if training didn’t happen, were already _at_ the ice rink or were studiously ignoring him. The thought caused Victor’s shoulders to droop as he wandered, finally turning away from the ocean and into the maze of streets making up the city.

At long last, he stopped at a small coffee shop, his feet sore and his heart bruised. A couple of the patrons there recognized him, but aside from a few calls for photographs and autographs, Victor was, to his relief, allowed to find a seat in peace. The owner served up a hot cup of their signature coffee, and Victor escaped to the solace of his phone.

Unlike when they’d been separated during the Rostelecom Cup, he made no effort to stay away from Victuuri fanfiction—quite the contrary actually. Victor pulled up his list of bookmarks and spent the entirety of the day drowning himself in stories about himself and Yuuri, making sure to stay far and away from anything that dipped too deeply into the depressing.

Was it pathetic of him? _Probably._

But then again, Victor did feel pretty pathetic without Yuuri, so it felt… oddly appropriate in his head. All he wanted was for them to be _together_ ; at this point, it didn’t matter to him whether it was on or off the ice. Yuuri had seemed _so adamant_ about leaving him alone at the rink, though, and it _stung_. There was no point— _no point whatsoever_ —in being a competitive skater if Yuuri wasn’t right there with him.

He wanted Makkachin. His arms ached to hug someone— _anyone_.

***

>   
>  **yourfaceisonmyice**
> 
> so who wants to be the person to ask nikiforov if he’s really that guy on ao3? do the fandom a service!
> 
> * * *
> 
> **sitspins4days**
> 
> Dude. WTF is wrong with you? If that’s not him, do you WANT to expose him to that part of fandom? Really? Just leave him out of this.
> 
> * * *
> 
> **vityaaaaaaaaaaaa**
> 
> lmao. watch. it’s going to be some other skater pretending to be vitya.
> 
> Source: yourfaceisonmyice #ice skating #Victor Nikiforov #Victroll #my money’s on chris
> 
> **2,834 notes**  
> 

***

The free skate was an emotional rollercoaster for Victor.

When he stepped past the curtain with Yuuri, there was a sinking feeling in his gut, a feeling of complete and utter dread. He and Yuuri had not reconciled as of yet, and while a desperate part of him didn’t _want_ to be separated from Yuuri, it felt like the only way to bring a smile back to his face _was_ to agree to return to the ice—alone.

But if that was what would make Yuuri happy, then Victor would do it. He loved this man too much, with too much of his heart, to let the silence continue to stretch out between them; Victor would figure out how to keep Yuuri by his side another way. He could do this— _had_ to do this.

His words didn’t work quite the way he wanted to, and Yuuri picked up on this, picked up on it all too easily. Victor had been chided then; somehow, it helped everything slide back into place, like the world was just _a little_ more right than it had been a few minutes ago. If nothing else, they were speaking to each other again, and relief flooded through Victor.

And when they had embraced and Yuuri had taken to the ice, Victor’s heart filled with love, with adoration, with _joy_ at seeing his student skate so very well. This— _this_ —was a tribute to him, he could tell. Every spin, every jump, every glide of the blade was in his honor, and it was, without a doubt, the best skate that Victor had ever seen from Yuuri.

But that… was that, wasn’t it?

As he sat there in the kiss and cry with Yuuri for the last— _the last_ —time, Victor wanted to beg and to plead for him to continue, to never, _ever_ retire, but instead, he told him that he’d return to the ice and watched the smile bloom on Yuuri’s face. Oh, and what joy he found there! What innocent and unbound happiness!

His heart _ached_.

Still, he had a promise to keep to Yuuri, and when it came to him, Victor _always_ kept his promises—even the gold medal looked promisingly close now. Slipping away from his student’s side, Victor found Yakov and announced his return to his bafflement before turning his attention to Yuri, pulling him into a fierce embrace and _needing_ that human touch.

There were words he couldn’t say, feelings he couldn’t express, but sometimes, even the great had to have a moment of weakness. As he clung to that small, narrow frame, Victor tried to gather his thoughts, tried to figure out _how_ to keep Yuuri at his side, even as the young Russian puzzled out his predicament, blue eyes going wide with shock.

The last few performances came and went far too quickly for Victor’s liking. The Grand Prix Final was drawing to a close, and it felt like what he had with Yuuri was about to end as well.

Katsuki Yuuri had redeemed himself at the Grand Prix Final this year with a silver, and Victor could not help but poke gentle fun at him. After all, had they not promised to marry with a gold around Yuuri’s neck? The words coming out of his mouth stung just a bit, wounding himself, as he thought of how his dreams of marriage were drifting further from him now.

Of all the promises he _couldn’t_ keep, it had to be this one, didn’t it?

Maybe he shouldn’t have cracked that joke back then. After all, who knew how Yuuri would take the comment now that he’d gotten silver. This truly did look like the end, what with him returning to competitive skating, his coaching career over, and Yuuri retiring.

At least they would be ending this relationship on good terms, smiles on both of their faces.

“Please stay with me in competitive skating for one more year!” spilled past Yuuri’s lips, and Victor stared, completely and utterly stunned. Astonishment quickly morphed to joy as he clung to his student, relief pouring through his veins and lifting the weight off his shoulders. He didn’t know _how_ or _why_ Yuuri had changed his mind, given his behavior up to this point, but Victor _didn’t care_.

It was like he could breathe again, like he could _live_ again, knowing that Yuuri would still be by his side—that Yuuri still _wanted_ him.

They held each other for what felt like ages, and when they finally picked each other up off the floor, it was with linked hands and shy smiles that they left the rink. The press would find them just past the locker rooms, a swarm of cameras and microphones filling the space before them. For once, the attention was solely focused on Yuuri and on _his_ achievements.

Victor listened as his student went on about his inspiration, his hopes, and his plans for continuing this season and the next, and it was with some surprise that he heard Yuuri call for him then, the hand circled around his squeezing in reassurance. 

“—and there’s someone I look forward to facing off against on the ice,” Yuuri said, looking over expectantly at Victor. The press shifted their attention to him, and he chuckled, moving to loop an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders. With his free hand, he waved at the host of reporters stationed before them.

“Hi~~”

***

>   
>  **VikturryMarch** @hahaifelldown  
>  GUYS IS VICTOR SERIOUSLY COMING BACK
> 
> **Phiiichiiiiiit** @lemmeselfiethat  
>  @hahaifelldown VITYA IS COMING BACK OMFG #SCREAMING
> 
> **Phiiichiiiiiit** @lemmeselfiethat  
>  DID YOU GUYS SEE HOW HAPPY YUURI LOOKED??
> 
> **VikturryMarch** @hahaifelldown  
>  @lemmeselfiethat AND HE IS STILL GOING TO COACH YUURI HOW I JUST YES ALL MY YESES 
> 
> **VikturryMarch** @hahaifelldown  
>  @lemmeselfiethat it’s like all my christmas wishes came true #Victuuri4ever
> 
> **My Life Is Trash** @trashtrashbaby  
>  @hahaifelldown @lemmeselfiethat what a day to be alive #blessed #victuuri4ever

***

It was their first day back in Hasetsu following the Grand Prix Final, and Victor had dragged Yuuri to bed, burrowing them both in a mountain of blankets. There would be a celebratory dinner tonight in his fiancé’s honor, but for now, Victor wanted Yuuri all to himself, wanted to shake off the last remnants of worry that had bubbled up over the course of their stay in Barcelona.

“Our fans enjoyed the gala skate,” he murmured into the nape of Yuuri’s neck, earning him a huffing laugh; Victor smiled into his hairline, nosing at the soft skin there. “The idea of us pair skating professionally is very popular right now.”

After taking to the ice together in public, Victor couldn’t help but find the idea attractive, even if he never thought that it would become a reality competitively. More than anything, he simply wanted to be _with_ Yuuri—both on and off the ice—and while he had left for Spain with the thought that they would enter retirement together, Victor returned to Japan growing the idea that the two of them would skate together once more.

“My number of bookmarks increased a lot again because of all the new fanfic!”

“I can’t believe you’re _still_ reading those stories,” Yuuri said, but not unkindly. “Are they really that interesting?”

“Yuuri~ You would know that they are if you actually read one!” Victor tickled his fiancé then, tickled him until Yuuri was begging for relief through panting breathes and hiccupping laughter. Victor’s smile was bright and wicked; he knew he’d won this round at long last.

“Okay, okay!” He swatted weakly at Victor’s hands, which were still braced around his belly. “Okay! Let’s… let’s read one together.”

Pecking Yuuri on the cheek, Victor sat up to grab his phone from the bedside table before pulling his fiancé to sit between his legs, arms folding around him once more. He was quick to bring up the fanfiction website and whipped up the short list of stories still saved under the “Mark for Later” label. “Do you remember these?” he asked quietly—affectionately. “I’ve been waiting to read them with you all this time.

“Pick one.”

Almost shyly, Yuuri plucked the phone from his hand and scrolled slowly through the selection he’d put together himself a few weeks ago. A slight furrow appeared on his brow, and Victor couldn’t help but chuckle softly when he saw the serious expression on Yuuri’s face. “Just choose one you like. They all sound good.”

There was a slight shake of the head, his student’s hair tickling his nose. “I want to pick the _right_ one. I want to enjoy this hobby with you.”

Victor’s heart caught in his throat, and he waited in silence until Yuuri finally picked the “right” fic to read.

By this point in his fandom career, Victor had perused this short list a number of times. Sometimes he did it to double check that a story wasn’t part of this collection, but more often than not, he did it to remind himself that Yuuri had been interested in these topics—that Yuuri thought of _them_ this way. Victor had accessed the list so many times since its creation that he had practically memorized the content of each one by title alone. So when his student stopped at the eighth story on the page, Victor tensed imperceptibly, and when Yuuri chose it, he couldn’t help the wobbly smile that spread across his lips.

So it was to be a story about their wedding then.

“Is this one okay, Victor?” The flush from having been tickled had long ago faded, but now it returned to paint Yuuri’s cheeks a rosy red.

“Yes.” Victor settled his chin on Yuuri’s shoulder, a feeling of warmth blooming from within his chest. “It is.”

***

>   
>  **Yuuri Katsudon** @imsokatsudone  
>  Just got a message from victroll on ao3
> 
> **Yuuri Katsudon** @imsokatsudone  
>  It’s signed v &y tho
> 
> **Yuuri Katsudon** @imsokatsudone  
>  What does this mean
> 
> **Yuuri Katsudon** @imsokatsudone  
>  Are vitya and yuuri reading together now
> 
> **Yuuri Katsudon** @imsokatsudone  
>  Is the troll evolving

***

The wedding got postponed.

It wasn’t because they decided that they weren’t ready; it was more the fact that they were now _so busy_ that they couldn’t put in the time and effort they wanted into planning it. After all, Victor now had to train for the Russian Nationals _while_ coaching Yuuri—something that Yakov continued to say was an utterly foolish idea at every given opportunity. On top of that, they couldn’t very well ask Chris to take time out of his training to jump out of a cake, and if they wanted Phichit to be their photographer, it would have to be after the season was over, too.

All in all, Victor and Yuuri decided that it would be best to finish off their season _first_ and _then_ have the wedding that they knew they wanted.

In lieu of celebrating their marriage, they held a small engagement party instead—open to just their friends and family in Hasetsu. It was a delightful affair filled with _entirely_ too many bowls of katsudon, surprisingly few alcoholic beverages, and good company; Victor could hardly remember a better night in his life. At the end of it, he and his student revealed that they would be moving to Russia _together_ to train.

A week later, they were at the airport with Makkachin in tow. Most of their belongings had already been shipped off to St. Petersburg, and they stood together, hands linked, looking up at the flight schedule. Victor shuffled a little, bumping shoulders with Yuuri, who gave him a shy smile and gave his hand a squeeze.

This was happening. _This_ was the next step of their relationship.

In the midst of packing and wrapping up his affairs in Hasetsu, Victor had started to put together two programs for himself, contacting composers and musicians he’d used in the past and sending word to Yakov about what he had thus far. It was a little strange to be re-entering the stage at this point in the game, but unlike how it had felt a few months ago, it felt _right_ —more right than it had felt in a long time. The choreography came easily, and while the music was _literally_ still being worked on, Victor could already hear it in his head, could already see himself skating to it.

Why, he’d even started putting together a _pair_ version of both his short and free programs. Victor hadn’t _told_ Yuuri just yet, but as he opened his mouth to do so, he heard someone _else_ calling Yuuri’s name.

“It’s Katsuki Yuuri!” And a moment later— “And Victor Nikiforov!”

There was something delightful about _Yuuri_ being noticed first, and he put on a charming smile as fans began to form a circle around them, starting a cycle of rapid fire questions. Victor folded an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders, adoring how his fiancé just leaned _ever_ so slightly into the embrace.

“Are you really moving to Russia?”

“Can I take a picture with both of you?”

“Are you guys going to pair skate or skate individually?”

“When’s the wedding day?”

“Have you put together your programs for the Russian Nationals yet?”

“Do you still think about katsudon when you skate Eros?”

“Are you really reading stories about yourselves?”

The crowd fell silent at that question, a strange hush filling the air; it would seem that _no one_ was expecting _that_ sort of inquiry. The fans gathered before them seemed to be split into two groups: those who looked confused and those who looked… mildly worried, perhaps even a little guilty. Why they would feel worried, Victor hadn’t a clue.

Still, that seemed to be _the_ question to answer before any of the others, so Victor went with it. People hovered around them, almost anxiously; a few of them had their cell phones raised, as if poised to take a picture or video as they waited for a response. Beside him, Yuuri’s face was turning bright red, and his eyes were pointedly directed at the ground.

“Yes, actually.” He hugged Yuuri closer and winked. “Yes, we are.”

The silence stretched onwards.

“Ah! Did you all want recommendations?”

Yuuri might have tried to kill him after they got on the plane. Just maybe.

***

>   
>  **avocadosonice**
> 
> I JUST RAN INTO YUURI AND VITYA AT THE AIRPORT. THEY’RE MOVING TO RUSSIA TOGETHER. MY HEART. <3
> 
> BUT ANYWAY. SO I’M TRYING TO ASK THEM TO TAKE A PICTURE WITH ME AND SOMEONE JUST UP AND ASKS IF THEY’RE READING FANFIC ABOUT THEMSELVES. 
> 
> AND GET THIS. VITYA SAID YES. _HE SAID YES_.
> 
> * * *
> 
> **avocadosonice**
> 
> Oh, and I did get that photo btw. THIS IS GOING ON MY WALL FOREVER GUYS.
> 
> BUT SRSLY. THEY READ FANFIC TOGETHER. VITYA EVEN OFFERED RECS. IS THIS MAN FOR REAL?
> 
> * * *
> 
> **skatezzbruh**
> 
> @yourfaceisonmyice ask n u shall receive
> 
> * * *
> 
> **yourfaceisonmyice**
> 
> LMAO
> 
> * * *
> 
> **sitspins4days**
> 
> Wait, wait. WAIT. ARE WE SURE ABOUT THIS? Have Victor or Yuuri confirmed this anywhere?
> 
> * * *
> 
> **phichitchuusu**
> 
> Looks like someone on twitter is talking about this happening as well. It’s not you, is it, @avocadosonice?
> 
> * * *
> 
> **avocadosonice**
> 
> Can confirm that that is not me. I swear, guys, I’m not lying here. He really did say that.
> 
> * * *
> 
> **jjleroyjenkins**
> 
> If you need more proof, someone JUST uploaded a video of this encounter on twitter. It is 100% legit. The fandom’s biggest star reads fanfic about himself.
> 
> * * *
> 
> **giacomettis**
> 
> So uh. @icebladez58?? Looks like you’ve got your answer finally.
> 
> * * *
> 
> **icebladez58**
> 
> Oh. My. God.
> 
> Source: avocadosonice #Victroll #Victuuri #MY SKIN IS CLEAR #MY CROPS ARE THRIVING #THIS IS MADNESS #HE READ MY FIC #THROWS SELF INTO THE VOID
> 
> **125,464 notes**  
> 

***

A little anxious, Yuuri looked over at Victor, a crease forming in his brow. With a laugh, his husband rubbed his finger against it, as if trying to smooth the furrow out, before leaning in and pressing a kiss to his lips. Victor held Yuuri’s face in his hands and bumped their foreheads together.

“It’s okay~ Chris and Phichit approve! And they’re our harshest critics!”

Yuuri huffed a sigh and smiled, a lovingly exasperated look that Victor had become oh-so-familiar with.

“You always did like surprising people,” he said as he reached for the mouse and hit the post button.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! ♥


End file.
